I was born in an undulating ceiling
& there are no supernovas
from here on, ma'am
see, there are jail cells
which line this linoleum garden - hey,
doesn't it remind you
of that movie with Jean Harlow
where she doesn't quite
make it to the end?
in those times we could admire
without the NSA playing
walkie-talkie secret agent,
interrupting pizza deliveries
our future selves will be
reminiscing on
when our voices
got lost under flat water
& misinterpreted sunbeams
the era of amnesiacs
taking anesthetics for fun
though I will admit
you get used to the lack
of color from being immersed
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